Through the Storm

Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins Page B

Book: Through the Storm by Beverly Jenkins Read Free Book Online
Authors: Beverly Jenkins
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
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anything arises.”
    Rhine nodded.
    Sable walked toward the door, very aware that Major LeVeq’s eyes were following her.
     
    Rhine showed up after dinner that evening. Mrs. Reese raised an eyebrow at his presence until Sable explained he was the soldier looking into the theft.
    Because Mrs. Reese hadn’t found anyone to replace the women who’d run out on her, Sable had the tent to herself. With Mrs. Reese’s approval, she escorted Rhine there. Once inside, they hugged each other tightly. Sable had missed him so intensely, and it felt so good to be held by someone who loved her, she had tears in her eyes when they finally eased apart.
    “How in the world did you get here?” he asked.
    Holding on to her own questions for now, she related the sad story of Mahti’s fiery death and the events that had triggered it.
    Rhine was livid. “Carson sold you? That bastard. Guess his slave-holding days are over now.”
    “I guess so,” Sable echoed, though her heart still ached with the loss of Mahti. “What are you doing wearing Union colors? Where’s Andrew?”
    “Our illustrious half brother is by now in California. Once we made it through the first battle alive, Andrewhad had enough. He said to hell with the South, freed me, and headed West.”
    “So you joined up with one of the Black units?”
    “No.”
    He spoke the word so softly, Sable peered at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”
    When he didn’t immediately reply, her imagination ran wild. “Oh Lord, Rhine, you’re not a Reb spy, are you?”
    He chuckled. “No, Sable. I’m with one of the regiments that came in a few days ago.”
    For a moment confusion held her. She’d heard nothing about a new unit of Black troops arriving in camp. The contrabands took such pride in their presence, any new Black units always caused a stir. She took a good look at her brother’s uniform. Unlike the uniforms of the few Black troops she had seen, her brother’s was the crisp, clean version worn by White soldiers. She gasped. “Rhine, you’re not passing as White, are you?”
    He nodded.
    “Why?”
    “I’m tired, Sable. Just tired.”
    “Tired of what?”
    “Having no voice in my own life.”
    “But Rhine, you’re not White.”
    “We both know that, but the army doesn’t.”
    Sable could only stare and ask again, “But why?”
    He shrugged. “I’m not strong like you and Mahti. I can’t stomach not being free to be who I am just because the law considers me less than a man.”
    “So you’re going to pass? What will that accomplish?”
    “It will help me get what I want out of life. I’ll have the freedom to choose what I want to do, where I want to go.”
    “But slavery is almost dead. Everyone says so.”
    “And afterward? Do you think the country is just going to embrace us? They hate us now and they’ll hate us after slavery.”
    “But you can’t turn your back on who and what you are. What about Mahti, our mother? Have you forgotten the sacrifices they made?”
    “Yes, and as I said, I’m not that strong. You know I’ve always sought the easiest road, and besides, I’ve had plenty of practice passing. Andrew let me do it all the time.”
    Sable simply could not believe her ears. And yes, he had passed before. The first time she’d realized he could do it successfully had been on one of her first trips to Atlanta. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine summers, which made Rhine ten or eleven. That evening, Andrew decided to go downstairs ahead of everyone else and order the family’s dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. As a slave, Rhine should have been eating in the kitchen with Sable and the slaves of the other guests, but Carson Fontaine found Andrew and Rhine seated together in the fancy eating room, drinking lemonade. Rather than cause a scene, Carson held his tongue and let Andrew and the ivory skinned, green-eyed Rhine have their fun. When they returned home, Rhine received the worst whipping of his life. Carson personally

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